Tears of Joy
by iSpazzForJazz
Summary: He wanted to forget his past. She can’t remember hers. They met, and nothing else mattered. Sometimes, the things we’re looking for…end up finding us. Alice x Jasper


**A/N: So this is my first fic ever! I originally wrote it for my friend but I decided to just post it up here! Uhm, it's Alice and Jasper's first meeting, pre-Twilight.**

**Don'chu just LOVE Jasper, emoness and all?! Lol, XD**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight; Stephenie Meyer does. --sobs--  
And the summary's not mine either. My friend made me like a trailer for this story, so that's where I got it from. Lylas, Josh!**

--

There are places in our world where the life span of the never-aging is measured in weeks, and not centuries.

I have seen things that would make even our kind recoil. I have lived that life. I have lived to killed and killed to live. Yet, I have no life to claim my own. I have body, yes; but no life. I am undead, yet dead. I am not living, yet alive. My existence is that of which my "life" is: an oxy-moron.

I was born for War. I killed for War. I grew sick of War. I ran away from War. I did not fear my injuries, I feared the injuries I had inflicted upon others; the lives I had taken so effortless and without a thought. I was made a Monster for War. And I accepted the notion thought to be my fate. But I guess even the never-aging can out-grow fate.

And now, after fleeing, I still feel incomplete. It is as though a part of me has run off, and I don't know where to find it. But this hollowness—this emptiness—I feel as though it can be filled. And the shattered pieces of my damaged, non-beating heart, can be put back together. But this will never happen. I have sinned too much to deserve resolve. I have been exposed to hatred, anger, and fear far too much.

And I am beyond salvation.

I am a Monster.

I am Damned.

I nod almost mechanically, to my thoughts. My physical being agrees. The Monster inside me agrees.

And then I am broken from my dismal train of thought by a twig snapping in the distance. I quickly pinpoint the scent of my disturbance. Deer, two of them; one a doe…the other—I take another sniff—an unborn foal, still in the womb. I can hear the two hearts, beating in union. Thump, thub…thump, thub…thump, thub. I tentatively put my hand over my still heart, unsure of the reasoning behind this act. Above my perch on an old pine, a hawk soars by, a trembling mouse in its grip. Thump, thub…thump, thub. Below, a snake escapes the day and slithers under a rock. Thump, thub.

Life goes on, but I'm standing still.

Hearts beat on, but mine's frozen still.

I let out the breath I subconsciously had held in so as not to disturb the pulsing life around me. Softly, I take in a deep breath. The comforting aroma of pine fills my nose. Just like home. A sudden peal of thunder startles me. I peer up, the familiar green needles surrounding the stormy sky. As I smell the soon-to-com rain, I close my eyes. A memory comes to mind. It is hazy and slightly blurry. A young boy of nine or ten, sits on a low branch of an enormous old pine. His once-neat blonde hair is mussed by the heavy wind. A peal of thunder is heard, but the boy is not scared. Instead, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, smiling. He continues like this, until a feminine voice breaks through his calm. Judging by the similarities, perhaps his mother? She yells at him to come inside. He reluctantly leaves his post and clambers down. And together, they start walking to a small cabin.

I open my eyes, surprised. That boy…was me? And I had seen Mama! I clung to the memory, but already bits were beginning to slip away. Frustrated, I jumped off my perch and landed effortlessly to the leaf-covered ground below. I was not the ten-year-old innocent boy anymore. My Mama had been dead for years. And I was in Philadelphia, not my Houston.

But it was better this way, I reminded myself. Better for Mama to think me dead by an honorable death, than to see me now. I began to walk, away from the pines and away from the memories.

And then the rain commenced. With it, the animals fled for cover and the smells of the forest—especially the pine—rose to greater heights. The memory came back. And so I ran, fleeing, like the cowardly monster I was. Soon, the trees became only a handful. I resumed my casual amble, civilization was near. If I continued to run, the human scents would become overbearing.

I found the main road—black, the only non-dirt one—and followed it. I did not know why. Thunder, this time accompanied by lightning, filled the heavens. Again, it startled me. The rain, came pelting down harder, accumulating in the crevices of the road. I squatted, looking down into one of the newly formed puddles. My sorrowful expression was replaced by the scowl of a monster. My soft sigh was turned into a snarl. My black-onyx eyes replaced by red, gleaming garnets. My dejected frown was twisted into a maniacal grin.

I could never escape.

I was bound my own being.

The thirst would never be sated.

Could I ever be who I desired to be?

I looked up into the crying heavens and wished that I too could cry. But the rain—and for this I loved it—was the closest I could come to crying. And so I took pleasure in this small luxury, letting the rain express everything I could not.

But, I was attracting unwanted attention. I stood up, relishing in the feel of my artificial tears for one last time, and set for cover. My dilemma was solved in the form of a diner. Its annoying fluorescent lights bore into my eyes. But I grew wary of the human scent. I would test myself; I needed to know if I could arrive without massacring the whole town.

Slowly, One step.

Two steps.

Three, four, five steps.

With every step, my throat burned.

Six steps.

Seven, eight, nine, ten steps.

The venom began to flow.

Eleven steps.

The Monster within me roared.

Twelve steps.

I was almost at the door.

Thirteen steps.

I would not be lured.

Then I stopped, my senses overloading. In the dimly lit diner, there were a handful of humans. But that…that didn't explain the new, irresistible scent that was unlike my own, yet so unique. Did I smell one of my kind? In all my worry…had I missed it? I took a small breath, and my answer had been confirmed. But we were North?...Perhaps this female—yes, most definitely female—would not pose a threat? Too many questions, and only one way to obtain the answer.

I opened the door, the tinkling bell above marking my entrance.

With wary eyes I looked for her. She was tiny, less than five feet, with cropped, ink black hair. In her tiny hand, she held a red straw, mixing the untouched drink on the counter in front of her. Sensing my presence, she swiveled around on the stool she was on. Her golden eyes locked with mine, shining with an unrecognizable emotion. Wait…golden eyes?

I had no time to ponder, as she hopped down from her stool and danced towards me. With a bright smile on her lovely face, the tiny angel came forth.

Did she mean an attack? No, the strange emotions emanating from the beautiful angel did not read as confrontation. But…what were they? They were strangely familiar…but they were not from this existence.

And then she spoke, "You've kept me waiting a long time."

Like the good Southern gentleman Mama had raised me to be, I shamefully ducked my head and apologized, "I'm sorry, ma'am." I hoped this angel could forgive me. I would be broken further if she did not.

She smiled; I was forgiven.

Then she stretched out her hand.

I took in my much larger hand, without a second thought.

And I felt hope, for the first time in nearly a century.

As we later walked out of that fateful diner—our hands still intertwined—into the pouring rain, I looked up into the crying heavens.

And the heavens once again cried for me the tears I could not.

But this time, they were tears of joy.

--

**Liked it? Hated it? Leave a review, and I'll give you a cookie!**


End file.
